Chapter Eight
The Masque of the Red Death Inspired by Edgar Allen Poe's Masterpiece A Story Collaboration Written by Kiara Phoenix, Bridgette Montello, Jessica Jean, Sara Dombrowski, Britny Stewart, and Raymee Sullivan Chapter Eight This chapter is told in the perspective of Jessica Jean. WARNING: This is an everything-goes fan fiction. Fiction may contain violence, strong language, and sexual themes. You have been forewarned. ' "Got the popcorn ready?" "Yepperoonie!" I walked into the living room to find Jack already lying across the couch comfortably. His feet propped up on the armrest of one side and his head propped up a small mountain of pillows, he looked up at me with a sly grin. The large silver bowl in my arms was like the Holy Grail of the evening and it seemed to reflect in his eyes like a holy and sacred trophy. "Buttered?" I smirked. "What kind of popcorn would it be if it wasn't buttered?" "Salted?" "My arteries are ready to surrender to this unhealthy movie-meal." He sat up in a bolt of movement, drumming his palms on his knees as he broke out into a grin. Moving his legs and making room for me, I dropped myself on the couch cushion and gripped the bowl against my chest, watching the company logo and epic music float onto the screen in an eclipsing effect. As Jack stretched over his arm to grab some popcorn from the bowl, I had to ask. "What are we watching?" ''"Nightmare on Elm Street." "Remake?" "Yep," he answered. He tilted his head backwards to shove in the whole handful of popcorn. In the dim lighting I could see the butter that remained on his fingertips. I snickered at both my friend's eating habits and the movie of choice. "I've heard it's shit." He had to laugh as I picked up one piece of butter-drenched popcorn and flicked it into my open mouth. "I know. Doesn't mean we can't watch it, right? Besides…" Jack leaned in close for a moment as he picked up another fistful of popcorn. His smile played by my ear as he kept talking in a quiet whisper. "… it's a horror movie. If you get too creeped out by it, then there's always the chance that you'll have to snuggle up with me…" I snorted with laughter. "You wish, jellyfish. I'm as hard as stone!" But as the movie went on and more and more teenagers were being killed off in grotesque manners, I found my toes curling up and my whole body on edge. I had devoured nearly all of the popcorn to cover up my nerves and yet I found myself clutching the empty bowl with greasy fingertips. I had seen the original before, but that was just tragically funny and camp. This version, though had some pathetic teenage actors, was incredibly more difficult to watch. I tried convincing myself that it was an actor, but I couldn't bring myself to fully accept it. All I saw was this monster. This monster with harsh eyes and deformed skin and sharp nails and sickening fetishes and this thirst for reven-- "Shit!!" I jumped at the frightening scene on TV, my eyes wide and focused on the TV. Jack nearly choked on his popcorn in laughter, watching as I tucked my knees into my chest and cupped a hand over my mouth. "You okay, stone-girl?" he asked sarcastically. I didn't turn to look at him, my eyes still wide as I watched Nancy run from her villain and the flames going higher and higher. I didn't know why I was this scared. It was just a movie. It couldn't hurt me. But on this rectangular screen I could still feel those eyes screaming for blood and revenge and to cause absolute chaos and fear amongst what was such a humble and quiet town. I gulped in fear as my fingernails scratched at the hard shell of the bowl, biting my lip as I watched Krueger's harsh metal knives scratched and tore his way into the teenagers dreams, leaving glowing sparks and marks in his path. Jack sighed. "C'mere." Taking the bowl from my hands, he put it down on the floor (closest to himself, of course) and pulled on my shoulders to lead me backward. I flinched at his touch but he politely ignored it, forcing me into his chest like a puzzle-piece so that the back of my head was resting on his worn out flannel shirt. "You okay, kitten?" I made a brief 'mmhmm' response, still focused on the screen. I was still scared, yes, but the extra layer of a person around me made me feel safer. More secure. Resting one hand on my knee and his other buttery and salty fingertips wrapped around my bicep, he rested the side of his face amongst my blonde curls and continued to watch the movie. "For the record, these teens are pretty pathetic. I'm sure you'd put up a better fight." I didn't want to move out of this comfortable frame, so I simply rolled my eyes upward to his general direction and gave a slight smile. "Really?" Jack laughed as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. "Of course!" he chuckled amongst the sounds of teenage girls and boys being slaughtered like pigs. I liked that kind of laugh. "Don't doubt yourself for a moment, Jess. You're a fighter and a tough little cookie. Krueger and his tricks have got nothing on your swag…" As he brushed a piece of my hair back into place, I found my whole chest feeling warm and bruised at the same time. It was as if somebody had literally pressed their hand against my heart and left this mark against my skin. But that was Jack White for you. The kind of guy who made an impression on you that you wouldn't forget. I was just one of the lucky few who was given a good impression. "Come along, Miss Jean…" I smiled as I wriggled into his chest further, my eyes half-shut as I watched Krueger stride down the hallways. As I felt the rise and fall of his chest against my back, I found myself actually enjoying the movie. I could even forgive the horrible acting from the teenagers. "We mustn't keep the Master waiting." I just felt really safe being in Jack's arms. "Jack…" "Dreaming, are we?" My eyes snapped open. I felt myself in the arms of another person, but it wasn't Jack. My head swiveling about wildly, I tried to find a familiar face. Kicking and fidgeting and twitching, I whimpered and groaned as I tried to throw myself out of my captor's thin arms. But my vision was still blurry from the chloroform. The bastards. I could only make out the dark environment and the black textured wallpaper. I suddenly fell to the floor with a scream, dropped from my hold and landing on all fours like a pathetic animal. My mind swam and clouded from the sudden movement and I found myself dizzy and sick. Oh God… I was still here? "No… No, no, no, no…" "Stand up, Miss Jean. We don't want to look disrespectful now, do we?" I recognized the voice. It was the suit-wearing bitch who had scrubbed and powdered my face to death when she first met me at the door. Another servant of the demon that held me captive here. But her monotone voice was unfocused and warbled. As if I was walking through fog with cotton in my ears. Suddenly there was a hand grabbing the back of my clothing. I was jerked upward by harsh claws that were boiling hot against my skin. I began to sweat at once, crying out in pain as the high, ruffled collar of my dress began to choke me. Just as I was beginning to stand, I was suddenly pushed down once more into a thin chair with a padded seat. Waldo ducked to my naked ankles with silver duct tape, strapping me to the chair so quickly that he could be classified as superhuman. I was too busy trying to fight back the bile and sick in my stomach to do anything else, but I loathed myself for not scratching the old man's eyes out then and there. As my head drifted to the side lazily, still caught in some deep sleep, I caught the sight of another blonde being dragged off into a distant room. I barely had time to process her identity as Bridgette. She seemed so unfamiliar now that she was out of her black and white dress and into those old-fashioned night clothes. "Jess!! Jess, don't let him hurt you!! We can beat him!! Just don't let him get to y--" "That's ''enough!!!"'' I was only just recognizing her voice inside my mind when I caught a glimpse of… him. That demon of crimson skin. That bastard of shadows and blood. I recognized the pointed chin and venomous eyes anywhere. They almost glowed in the dark as he slammed the door and turned to me. And as his lips curled into that horrifying grin, I found myself cringing at the sight of his broken, yellowed teeth. The Red Death. My wrists were grabbed quickly by Waldo, who tied them together with the silver tape. I could only try to fling them and flop them about like a dying fish, but even then he simply dug his nails into my wrist and glared at me with sharp eyes. They looked like the colour of a blood orange's pulp and just as sour. Even when I tried to stand, soft but firm hands pulled me backward sharply into my seat. I craned my neck to see the woman of unpleasant grey who was unwinding more tape and wrapping it over my chest and arms. I was pinned to the chair at once, my chest forced down with the tape and unable to move. When I opened my mouth she simply stared me down, not even glaring at me, until my head turned away from her. I dared to speak, facing Waldo's demonic eyes as I unclenched my lip. "Let me go." The Red Death approached me, listening in on my whimpering pleas. "What was that, babydoll? I think you're still a little sleepy, aren't you?" I faced him now, my eyes barely focused on his hideous image. "Let… me… go!" I cried as my voice broke. The words seemed to fall from my tongue like syrup and thick saliva. The weak command was too heavy and slick to keep in my mouth. Tears began to swell inside and my nose began to run. The fact that I wasn't crying yet was surprising. Waldo sat up to my height and stretched out a piece of silver, pinching my face and pulling me forward as he attempted to attach it over my mouth. I whimpered, but did nothing. Shutting my eyes and awaiting the impact of disgusting stick, I was surprised to open them to the sight of large, thick talons resting on Waldo's shoulder. The butler stood up by his master's side, only coming to his armpit, and looked to him with confusion. Even the wench behind me stood cautiously, watching the demon carefully. "Master?" The Red Death smirked. "Not for this one... I think it'll be more fun to hear her scream." His eyes flickered over to my face, looking steadily into my wide and frightened blue eyes. I could see more clearly now that the drug was wearing off completely. Looking down at my lap, I discovered that I was no longer dressed in my star gown. Instead, an old Victorian nightgown that came past my knees and cut with poofy sleeves on my arms hugged me with soft white fabric. "Wh-Who changed me?!" I asked, my voice panicking. I loathed the thought of this monster touching me and my unconscious body without my permission. The Red Death merely laughed, bending over and meeting my face as I squirmed. "The time for questions is over, Jessica Jean." I glared at him with my furious black eyebrows. "Who changed me!?!?" He glanced over to Waldo. "On second thoughts…" And the tape was smacked over my mouth before I had time to protest. I screamed at him from behind it, the tears leaking up once more as I struggled to breathe. I tried reaching my fingertips up to my face to pick it off, but the tape around my arms that restrained me to the chair kept me from moving. I could do nothing but watch as he pulled out a clipboard and began to read from it, his long plum-coloured index finger tracing the words as he muttered beneath his breath. "Jessica Margaret Jean… aged fifteen, blah, blah, blah…" he groaned in a bored, dry voice. He began to flick through pages impatiently, clenching his teeth in anger. "Weak points are wrists and neck-- no, no! Fears… fears, fears… Here we go…! Fear of rape, penetration, and pregnancy…" My heart stopped at the sinister grin that emerged from his features. He chuckled to himself and he rolled his sour yellow eyes over to where I was sitting. I whimpered from behind my mask of tape, shrinking in my seat in an attempt to be as far away from him as possible. He laughed harder at the sight of me, beginning to take slow footsteps towards me until he was standing right behind me. I tensed up as he pressed his claws to my shoulder, digging into the soft white fabric. "Don't worry, virgin. I'm saving those fears for a little later…" I could feel the heat of his breath run down my spine like fingertips down a keyboard. I kept my eyes shut tight to try and hold back my scream of pure disgust. The Red Death stood up once more, circling me like a demonic shark in a pool of blood. As he continued to read from his tacky little clipboard as he hummed to himself peacefully. "Let's see here… fear of dying alone…? How romantic… Fear of dying a virgin-- Oh, don't worry, Miss Jean… I'm not going to let that happen to you…" My skin crawled at the sadistic, perverted purr in his throat. I felt like gagging as I ducked my head in embarrassment. I clamped my legs together firmly in fear and self protection, as if he'd suddenly throw me backward and attack me mercilessly out of nowhere. In fact, I was expecting him to steal me at any minute now. But he wasn't done yet. He had only just begun. For as he looked back over to his clipboard, he let out a beautifully low and slow wolf-whistle. His plum-coloured index finger paused in a perfect, elegant pose at one line in particular and he looked up at me with a malicious grin. "Here we go…" My eyes widened to the point where they were dinner plates. I forgot what it felt like to breathe. "Fear of going to Hell?" I froze in my seat, my heart going a mile a minute. "Oh, isn't that sweet…" He forced the board into the hands of that bitch in a suit, who simply took it from him with a blank and dull expression as she watched me closely with Waldo by the far wall. On instinct I tightened up my legs and sat up as straight as possible. He seemed to love that, for he broke out into vicious laughter. "You're afraid of what some man in the sky thinks of you?! Oh, baby… I know that you go to a Catholic school, but you really take it that seriously!? Hahaha!!! Oh, you are'' precious…"'' "MMMMFFFFFF!!!!" I screamed from behind my duct tape. Shaking my head, the blonde curls thrashed violently as I tried to protest. 'Some man in the sky'?! I wasn't sure of the existence of God, but he didn't have to downright insult my beliefs in such a childish and arrogant manner. "Oh, you're a unique little one, aren't you…?" purred the Red Death, kneeling down in front of me. He rested one of his hands on my knee and smirked as I flinched at his touch against my bare skin. He let it go, but he didn't bother to hide his Cheshire grin. "What makes you think that you'll go to Lucifer's playhouse, Jean?" I couldn't answer even if I wanted to. His red fingertips toyed with the lacy hem of the nightdress, ever-so-lightly tracing the skin of my leg as he toyed with me. "Is it the fact that you're so deliciously filthy-minded…?" Sweat raced down the arch of my back. "Is it because you crave for pleasures that good little girls like you aren't expected to know about…?" I tried to protest from behind the gag. "Mmrgh--!" He pressed his sharp talons into my flesh, making me wince as he bruised my pale skin. "Is it because you know exactly… how… to pleasure… your body?" The silent tear was unmistakable as I looked away from his scorching eyes. I just wanted him to stop. Stop torturing me with the horrible truth I already knew… "No… It's because you can't stop thinking about your little bad-boy, isn't it?" My body began to shake as he ran his long, burning index finger slowly crept beneath the white gown and up my inner thigh. Not by his touch, but the thought of what Jack would think of me if he was here. Hearing this. Watching me. "And you can't help but imagine what it would be like for him to want you… to dominate you." I shut my eyes tight. My face blushed red with shame and embarrassment. "… Mm-mm…" I mumbled, shaking my head from side to side. He raised a naked brow sarcastically, sitting upright and leaning his head into mine. "No? Then why are you scared, babydoll?" Nobody moved. Nobody spoke. He laughed beneath his breath, slowly curling his long ember of a fingertip and leaving a trail of red-hot heat down my skin. If I listened closely, I could actually hear my skin crackle like a fryer. This demon was Hell itself in physical form. His eyes, his skin, his damned fingertips like fire… He was the Devil himself. I felt the sweat drench through my clothing but I wasn't even moving. I was shaking and twitching violently at his touch, yet he was barely doing anything at all. "Come on, baby, you know I'm right… And you know what? I think it's beautiful. Someone as sweet… and innocent… and succulent as you… being haunted by these nightmarish visions and constantly guilty for wanting to experience such human pleasures… You're this filthy… wretched little whore beneath this disguise of crosses and curls, but you're just too scared to admit it…" I choked on a sob. "Nnrmmgh." He smirked, sending his pungent and toe-curling breath into my face. "What was that? Have I hit a sore spot, kitten?" I gave no response. He knew, anyway, and began to chuckle beneath his words. "Aw… Don't like it when I call you that, baby…?" I shook my heavy head slowly, rocking it from side to side weakly. He suddenly turned savage and harsh, pushing my chin up and making me face him. My eyes were forced open and I found myself looking into those horrible yellow eyes once more. "Well get used to it, kitten. You're nothing more than a flirt and a tease hiding behind a mask of youth and grace… When the flames and the fire begin to eat you alive from the inside out and you scream out for a god that locks you up in the dark… I'll be there…" I could barely process what he was saying. All I could feel was the ember tip of his finger sharply pressing into my chin and pushing me upward. Shutting my eyes, my mind swam with the darkness as I felt the tongues of gold and orange light devour my heart and my senses. I was woken out of my depression by a firm, sharp blow to the stomach. I coughed and spluttered, only for it all to be trapped in my mouth by my gag. Looking up, I found the Red Death laughing at me as he grabbed through my dress and clutched at my stomach. I whimpered as he dug his claws into me through the white fabric, wincing in pain as he laughed in a maniacal cackle that chilled me to the bone. He laughed in my face, squeezing my face tightly in his thick, firm hands. My face immediately blushed with heat and the incredible warmth radiating from his fingers. He forced out more weakness from my eyes and watched them fall between his fingers. My stomach still felt sick from where he had hit me and I swear that I was about to puke. If it weren't for the tape over my mouth, I think I would have been sick all down the Red Death's black cloak. "Don't worry, Jean. I'm sure that your little Jackie-boy loves you dearly, despite your wicked little ways…" I stopped crying. "It's just a pity that he has to die before you can try and tell him the same." The kick to the crotch was just as much a surprise for me as it was for the Red Death. But before I could try to question where that surge of inner strength had come from, I remembered my drug-induced memories and brought back my dreams. Behind my silver mask of tape, I couldn't deny the smile that tweaked at the corners of my lips. "Don't doubt yourself for a moment, Jess. You're a fighter…" I smiled at the thought of Jack laughing with me. If only for a moment. I suddenly remembered just why it was that I was there. Nobody jokes about my friend's life and expects me remain petty and weak. ''Nobody.''' I watched with sadistic delight as the Red Death grunted in pain, his eyes shut tight before the flashed back into yellow. He was no longer smiling at me. He grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled me with such strength that I was freed from the sturdy chair and the stretches of duct tape that once ran around my arms and chest. Throwing me across the room, I collapsed against the door that I once saw Miss Montello walk through and my whole body sagged against the thick, aging wood. "How ''dare you try to pull a cheap move like that on me!?" He lifted me by the hair once more and put his talons to the handle of the door, unlocking it quickly. "You won't survive two seconds in this game if you behave like that again…" he growled in my ear like a angered tiger. Yanking the door open and shoving me directly in the centre of my back, I was pushed into the next room of pitch black. I tripped and fell onto my knees and the door slammed shut before I had even hit the floor, but I could hear the demon shout angrily at Waldo to get the next girl. Sara. My mind flashed with red as I remembered her dress from the ball. Inside of my heart I prayed for her safety and hoped that he would not hurt her. I had angered him. A foolish mistake I regretted at once. I just hoped that he wouldn't decide to take it out on another girl. "Jess!" I was swamped at once by a shadow that clutched me tight to its chest. As my eyes adjusted to the dark of the tiny room and I breathed in the scent of perfume, I recognized it to be the girl in the mint dress. KP. Brushing hair and sweat out of my face and ripping the tape from my nightdress, her fingertips scratched at my lips as she pulled off the gag in once clean movement. I hugged her back, able to breathe easily, and looked over to the watching Bridgette who smiled at me with compassion as she knelt by my side. But inside her eyes I could see worry and concern. I decided to put her at ease. "I-I'm okay. Sore, but okay." "Did he try anything on you?" she asked quietly, as if the very idea would set me off in tears. I shook my head and she let a sigh of relief escape her. "Thank fuck." KP was still holding me tight. I smiled in her arms. "It's okay, KP. You can let go." She didn't. I had nearly forgotten just how much these girls meant to me. Not just KP and Bridgette, but all five of them. Dressed in similar Victorian nightwear and just as scared, these girls are all trapped in this house with this monster and his fucking staff. And, more than likely, we all had loved ones in danger. I wanted to ask them about their own lives. About what they liked. What they wanted to be. What they wanted to do. What shows they watched. What they ate for breakfast. What school they went to. Just those little, everyday kinds of things. The normal things that we all took for granted. Anything to distract the three of us from the absolute terror and doom that we were had just walked into. But I could barely form a sentence. I was too busy wondering about how Jack was going back home. Was he in his own bed, fast asleep and dreaming some vivid fantasy about himself and Harriet? Was he staying up late and searching online for murder stories or, knowing him, downloading some new horror movie? … Had he wondered where I was at school that day? Did he know how much I was sacrificing for the sake of his safety? Did he know just how much I love him? Was there a chance that he loved me back? KP's arms, though warm in the freezing cold and holding me tightly, were no longer enough for me. I burst into tears. No. There was no chance. I had no chance at all